


First Time Since

by Caledfwlch



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Post-Quest, Post-Quest of the Ring, Recovery, is it an au if i just dont acknowledge the grey havens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 23:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15520752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caledfwlch/pseuds/Caledfwlch
Summary: Frodo and Sam watch the sunrise together.





	First Time Since

**Author's Note:**

> bet you all thought i was dead huh. nope haha suckers i was just busy getting really into Hobbit Love (and also college)

Frodo wasn't there.

Sam started with a shiver. The warmth in his arms, the dip in his bed, were gone.

_Taken_ , was his first thought. _Gone, found, hurt-_

He took a deep, shaky breath. "No use having such thoughts, Sam Gamgee," he muttered to himself, patting the sheets and pillows around him to quell his racing heart. "You aren't in Mordor anymore. And besides, Mr. Frodo's always been such the wandering sort…." He slipped his feet from under the covers and onto the cool wood floor. It was still dark out, and the night painted the familiar interior of Bag End a soft, deep blue. Yet, Sam could hear a few adventurous birds beginning to chirp outside.

"He always has been odd about the dark since we've come back," he continued quietly to himself as he walked through the still and silent house towards the door. "Couldn't sleep, maybe. He could've woken me, he should have, if he's been having those frights any more…." Stepping out, he could feel the soft, dewy grass between his toes. He let himself breathe in the scent of early morning for just a moment, walking about the edge of the hobbit-hole. The grass, though it had always been a pleasure, came as a great blessing now- perhaps among the greatest.

"Ah, Sam."

He flinched. "Don't go scaring me like that, Mr. Frodo!"

Frodo, sitting on the top of the hill, chuckled softly. "Hush, Sam, or you'll disturb her."

"Disturb who, begging your pardon?"

"The sun, of course. She's just getting ready to say good-morning, you know."

Sam sighed to himself with the mixture of relief, fondness, and annoyance that had long since come to lodge itself in the place in his heart labeled _Frodo Baggins_. He clambered up the hill to sit beside Frodo. His troubled heart settled as he felt Frodo beside him, his warm, small frame.

"I had been wondering when you'd wake up," Frodo said,, not a trace of a scolding in his voice. "I had been hoping you could watch her with me."

Sam looked at Frodo. His cheeks had finally begun to fill out again. His face shone gently as the moon herself, eyes gazing towards the sky like two stars above a smile soft and sure as spring rain. Sam found himself, as he often did when looking at Frodo, speechless. He took his hand and sat in silence with him. As always, Sam felt the absence of his ring finger, though the gap no longer shocked him.

"I remember," said Frodo, "when you did this with me once before a day's work."

"Yes, I remember, Mr. Frodo," Sam replied, grateful to have a talking point. "Always used to workin' early, I was. And you asked me, 'Sam, have you ever watched the sunrise?' And well, in a manner of speaking, I had, being up to tend the gardens. But I'd never really just sat and watched her wake up, you know. And you thought, well you thought that was just about the greatest tragedy in Middle-earth."

Frodo began to quietly laugh. The same laugh he had always had, light and sweet, though perhaps now a little heavier. His eyes, as they ever had, closed as the long fingers of his free hand rose delicately to his lips.

Not having meant to be funny, Sam lamented for a moment- then found himself laughing, too. "Oh, Mr. Frodo," he said, "it all feels such a far ways away."

"Yes," Frodo chuckled to himself, and raised his eyes back up towards the sky. "Yes, and not."

Sam squeezed Frodo's hand, and felt a firm return. The horizon was beginning to glow with a pale haze of lavender-grey.

"You really can stop calling me that," Frodo said after a moment. 

"Calling you what?"

"'Mr. Frodo' and 'Master' and all that. After all we've done together. I don't think it's really fitting, is it?"

Sam's cheeks heated. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mist- Fr…." He stared down at his feet, his ears getting steadily warmer.

"What, you think after watching me crawl on my hands and knees through the dirt, after carrying me on your back to that- to that place where I couldn't even…." He sighed, and then laughed again. "You think I'd really have you bow to me like some servant in the dark?"

Sam's voice went soft, now. "Don't put yourself down like that, Mi… Frodo. Everything you've done is worthy to be put to song. And put to song it's been. And even then, no elf or minstrel could sing your praises high enough for me."

Frodo's smile widened and he shook his head. "I did not mean to speak ill of myself, Sam, but highly of you." He met Sam's eyes and reached with his free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his friend's ear. Sam almost melted into the touch: so gentle, yet firm and sure, as Frodo always seemed to be. As dainty and quiet as the flowers that grew in the meadow off the road.   
That sweet voice murmured, "I feel that I sense your bravery even stronger here now. You lift me up even when there's no need." And then Frodo's lips pressed gently to his forehead, his cheeks- his lips.

Warmth blossomed in Sam's heart, and he caressed the side of Frodo's face, his fine features, always so fragile, Sam felt, fragile enough to break beneath his hand, though he knew far better by now.

When Frodo pulled away and laid his forehead against Sam's, it dawned on Sam that that had been their first kiss since they'd gotten back. They had snuck them in the forest, on the rocks, and in the dark, empty wasteland of Mordor. On their journey, each one had been tinged with a growing desperation. The knowledge that each one could be their last. And in the back of Sam's mind had been a fear- no, more like an acceptance- that perhaps Frodo only kissed him because their time was running out, and, well, he should like to be kissed before he died, and it might as well be Sam, who was there, and warm.

Not so in the Shire.

Sam's hand tightened around Frodo's, his heart releasing a tension he hadn't realized it had been holding.

Frodo laid his curly head on Sam's shoulder and they gazed towards the horizon together. The sky was blushing pink, and a soft gold lingered behind his lids whenever Sam blinked. They watched together in silent company as the Sun peaked steadily over the hills, a Sun that now they could watch each morning, and watch again each evening with the surety of time in their hands. The simple trust in their ability to see it.

"Samwise," Frodo said. "I think we're going to be all right."


End file.
